


Make the Right Mistake

by matchsticks_p (matchsticks)



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Alec Lightwood gives him nice things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Background Clary Fray/Jace Wayland, Battle Couple, Clave Politics (Shadowhunter Chronicles), Complete, Developing Relationship, First Time, Greater Demons, Lightwood Siblings Feels, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Magnus Bane Deserves Nice Things, Parabatai Bond, Porn With Plot, Sex Work, Supportive Isabelle Lightwood, Trope Subversion, Wooing, flirting while in peril, minor references to historical dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:00:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25384198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matchsticks/pseuds/matchsticks_p
Summary: Tradition dictates that warlocks who have lost their magic serve as courtesans to Shadowhunters, providing not only sex work but also political stability in a highly ritualized role. Isabelle Lightwood calls on the services of a highly prized courtesan, Magnus Bane, to help her recently outed and hopelessly virginal brother.As Alec and Magnus grow closer, they realize there may be more to this than just playing the roles they're given.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 116
Kudos: 425





	1. Chapter 1

The courtesan isn't what Alec expected.

Izzy and Jace had dropped the news on him with only two hours' notice, so it wasn't like his brain had that much time to come up with wild fantasies, but he knows, as soon as their eyes first meet, that he could've spent an eternity imagining and still never expect this.

"Magnus Bane, at your service." The man extends a hand, glittering with jewels, and quirks a smile at Alec.

Alec scrambles to take it. "Alec. Uh. Lightwood." Unsure if he should kiss his hand or what, he grips it for a moment before awkwardly inclining his head in a graceless little half bow. He can't stop darting looks all over his face, his kohl-lined eyes and shimmering eyeshadow, his glossy lips, his throat at the open collar of his shirt, the sharp line of his Adam's apple juxtaposed with the delicate curve of his collarbones. 

Jace's poorly suppressed snort of laughter breaks the spell. 

"Thank you so much for coming, Magnus," Izzy says, socking Jace in the arm and pushing her way next to Alec to also shake his hand. " _Please_ take good care of our brother, he really needs you."

" _Izzy_!" Alec hisses, mortified. 

"I assure you, the pleasure will be all mine," Magnus responds, his smile growing softer. The effect makes his words sound more reassuring than lascivious, somehow. 

Alec's cheeks burn red. He still can't believe that his baby sister and his parabatai have…have _engaged a professional_ for him, just because he turned his entire life upside down by publicly coming out to prevent his arranged sham marriage and now he's subtly ostracized and always sad. Okay, maybe he can believe it. But it's so embarrassing that he might die a virgin despite his siblings' best efforts after all, because he's going to die of humiliation right now. 

He snaps back to attention when he feels Magnus slip a hand into the crook of his arm. Magnus looks up at him, golden eyes shining through dark eyelashes, and asks, "Is this okay?"

Alec swallows back a stutter and says yes. 

"Do you have somewhere more private that we can go to talk and get to know each other better?"

A million goose bumps shoot across Alec's skin, and he has to actively suppress a shiver when he looks at Magnus's mouth. "I have a room," he says.

"A room sounds nice," Magnus says encouragingly. 

Alec folds his other hand over Magnus's, keeping him tucked into his elbow, and starts walking him in the direction of said room. Behind them, Izzy and Jace wave and shoot him double thumbs ups, and Alec resolutely ignores them.

"I think it's lovely that they care so much about you," Magnus breaks the silence after they've walked for a while, Alec getting more nervous with each step. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. There's nothing wrong with you, no matter what we do or don't do tonight."

Alec clenches his jaw. "That's…very kind," he grinds out. He's distinctly aware that he's being unfair; Magnus is doing his job and being amazing. He should put in some effort too. He forces his body to relax and slides his arm out from Magnus's, so that he can drop his hand to the small of Magnus's back. 

It's the reason he can feel Magnus's spine stiffening beneath his palm when they walk past a rack of ceremonial weapons outside of the training room. Alec glances down. Magnus displays no other outward signs of discomfort, though at the point that brings them closest to the weapons he edges away, and averts his eyes from them carefully. 

Until he notices this, Alec hadn't thought about how being a powerless warlock inside an Institute might feel. It has only been decades since Shadowhunters and warlocks have reached a tentative peace, allying with each other, sometimes even in friendship. But warlocks who've lost their magic have served as courtesans for centuries, long before the majority of Shadowhunters grudgingly accepted them as autonomous beings who deserve respect. Even now, the warlocks who work with the New York Institute are still wary of the Nephilim, unable to forget how they had been hunted down and slaughtered—a long time ago to Alec, but in living memory for the immortals. It makes sense for Magnus, who has all that history weighing on him but no magic to protect himself, to be uneasy around all the reminders that surround him.

Alec draws Magnus solicitously away from the training room, shielding it from his view with his broad shoulders. "Come on, let's go this way. It's quieter." He takes them on a path that's a little way longer to his room, but steers clear of the ops center, which he assumes Magnus probably wouldn't want to see either.

At the door to his room, Alec's nerves suddenly flare up anew. He can't remember if he'd left the pair of boxers he sleeps in just lying around somewhere, and he gets the urge to run his hand through his hair to style it somewhat, despite having never cared before in his life what his hair looks like. 

"I'm looking forward to getting you alone," Magnus leans up to murmur in his ear while he fumbles with the lock, and blood rushes up Alec's neck.

Alec stammers something that isn't words and Magnus laughs. "Just so we can chat, away from prying eyes. Why, what did you think I meant?" he asks, eyes wide with faux innocence.

It's silly, but it works. Alec's too busy being amused to be anxious anymore, though he still does a hurried visual sweep to make sure there's nothing too embarrassing out in full view. "Uh, make yourself at home. Do you want something to drink? Or eat?" Alec kicks himself for not remembering to offer sooner. If Magnus does want something, he'll have to run back out to the commissary.

Magnus, meanwhile, walks around his large open-plan room and trails his fingers over various articles of furniture, looking at the framed pictures on his wall to his heart's content. Alec's breath hitches when he pauses by the bed, but Magnus decides to sit on the loveseat instead, splaying his limbs over it with the grace of a blooming flower. The necklaces at his _very_ open collar jingle against each other as he settles in. "I'm quite alright, darling. I have everything I need right here."

"You, uh, I…"

"Come over here and sit with me," Magnus purrs, lazily patting the small space left on the couch.

"I don't think I'll fit," Alec, says, walking over anyway.

"I'm sure we can make it work if we try really, really hard," Magnus winks, but shifts up a little so Alec can at least have a hope of not smothering him to death. "There, isn't this nice?"

The entire length of Alec's thigh is pressed up against Magnus's, and if he shifts even a little bit his leg would be practically in Magnus's lap. He has to admit that it's very nice.

Magnus reaches forward, hand landing above Alec's knee, and strokes in suggestive circles that bring him higher and higher on his leg. "I'm sorry I'm a virgin," Alec says abruptly, and promptly wants the couch to swallow him.

"There's nothing wrong with that," Magnus reassures him, which is something he's already said earlier. "And it's nothing I can't handle. I'm an expert, remember?"

He says it coyly, but it makes Alec feel worse rather than better. "How long have you been…um, an expert?"

"Not very long. Only thirty years or so."

Alec's somewhat relieved. Not during the really horrible times, then. Not back when they were essentially treated like property. It's only when Magnus squeezes his knee that he realizes he'd been bouncing his leg. He doesn't normally have a nervous tic like that, and he's not sure why he's doing it now.

"We don't have to do anything tonight, or any other night. When I say there's nothing wrong with the fact that you've never had sex, I mean it's not something that needs to be fixed." Magnus's hand shifts, finally far enough that it grazes the growing hardness at Alec's groin, which he had been hoping not to draw attention to. "Oh my. On the other hand, if you want to…"

"How could I not want to?" Alec says helplessly, keeping his eyes on Magnus's devastatingly beautiful face so that he wouldn't have to look at his hand resting on the swell of his crotch, because if he looks there he doesn't even know what he might do. "But do _you_ want to?"

"Darling," Magnus breathes, turning in his seat so he can swing one leg across Alec's hips. Alec's breath hitches. "I presume you've read my file, because I know from the grapevine that you're a very diligent little Shadowhunter, the best of the best," he says, mouth distractingly close to Alec's ear, "which means you know what I did to get myself banned from the New York Institute for five years, back in the 90's."

He had, of course, read the file. Back in the 90's, Magnus had scratched out a low-ranking Shadowhunter's eyes, quite literally with the nails on his very hands. They had been able to save her sight with a healer, but even the incident reports—and incident reports are almost always biased towards the Nephilim in circumstances like that—had implied she deserved it for something she had done to the courtesan. Alec had read it, and so he knew Magnus wouldn't do anything he didn't want to. With or without his magic, no one could make him.

"Yeah, I've read your file," Alec affirms. The idea that Magnus doesn't feel like there's any outside pressure making him fondle Alec's inner thigh like that makes Alec's throat go dry. 

"Trust that I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be. You're not exactly hard on the eyes," Magnus says, smiling at him. 

Heat rushes across Alec's skin all over his body. Without his conscious permission, Alec's mouth interjects, "You're one to talk. Have you _seen_ yourself?"

Magnus smiles again, not at Alec this time. He looks down as the corners of his lips curl, a small private smile to himself. When he looks back up, his eyes hard half-lidded, sultry. "May I take off your jeans, Alexander?"

Alec's heart is pounding so hard he swears he can feel his pulse in his throat and in his cock. A million thoughts flash through his mind, the disappointed look on his mother face and the loneliness he had resigned himself and how much he doesn't want to die untouched, and how lovely Magnus has been so far. "Y-yes," he manages to choke out.

* * *

Magnus can feel the weight of Alec's gaze on his painted nails as he eases Alec's zipper down. He's glad he chose something with holographic flecks of glitter—something shiny for Alec to look at while he waits breathlessly for the main event.

The boxer briefs he finds underneath are black, cotton, no-nonsense. Very in-character, Magnus can already tell. He's mostly hard already and Magnus hasn't even _done_ anything yet. He slinks off the couch onto his knees between Alec's legs, and hooks his fingers around the waist of both jeans and underwear to pull them down. Alec obligingly lifts his hips.

Magnus slides his palms up Alec's muscular thighs until his thumbs bracket Alec's cock, now bare before him. It's a very nice one, thick and uncut, a small bead of moisture starting to pearl at the head. Magnus can't say he doesn't find Alec attractive. He's well built, hard in all the right places, dark runes on pale skin that Magnus could almost dissociate from their meaning when Alec smiles at him so softly. Beyond his physical attraction, Magnus has to admit that he's charmed by his gentlemanly behaviour so far. He hasn't been a courtesan for long, relatively speaking, but he's seen enough clients to know that he's never been so immediately drawn to anyone before. 

He's never had anyone try to take care of him before anything even happened before.

He moves his hands closer in, touching the base of Alec's hardness. It draws a strangled gasp from Alec's chest, and the dewdrop at his slit grows larger. "I'm going to use my mouth on you now," Magnus tells him, "is that okay?"

Alec's legs involuntarily spread wider, but before Magnus can dive in he puts a hand on his shoulder and says, "Wait. Can I—is it okay to ask you—to do something?"

Magnus presses his lips together and smothers a fond laugh. "Oh, darling, you can ask me to do just about anything. Jace and Isabelle paid me for everything I'm willing to offer because they didn't know what you would like."

Seeing the deeply pained face Alec makes at that, Magnus gives up on not laughing and laughs a lot.

"I don't want anything…weird," Alec whines. "Why would they assume that I'm some kind of pervert?"

"There's nothing you could want that I would judge, nothing about sex is weird," Magnus soothes, rubbing circles on his hip. "Well, not weird in a bad way, anyway. What did you want to ask me?"

Alec's blush goes all the way down his neck and onto his chest, Magnus observes. "Can you…take your shirt off, maybe?"

Magnus has to press his face against one of those strong thighs for a moment just to compose himself. His heart clenches with how _sweet_ Alec is. "Yeah," he says, muffled against him, "I can do that."

He undoes the buttons of his silk shirt and shrugs out of it. The second his shoulders are bared, Alec's cock jumps against his belly. Magnus bites back a giggle and sits back a little, letting Alec look his fill. Before he can tease Alec with a cheesy line about liking what he sees, Alec surprises him by cupping a hand under his face and saying, "Okay, I'm ready now."

Magnus's mouth actually waters in anticipation. He's not sure he's ever wanted to blow someone so badly before. He pumps his fist around Alec's length, pulling back the foreskin, before leaning in to close his lips around the head.

Alec yelps, bucks up, but it's not Magnus's first rodeo and he's prepared to take him in further. He licks and nips gently, sucking and nuzzling, finding the places that make Alec moan and the pressure that keeps him strung out on the edge. Alec's hands clench into the cushions and his fingers dig into Magnus's shoulders on occasion, but he keeps them away from Magnus's perfectly coiffed hair, considerate as always.

It doesn't take long for him to reach his climax, which is to be expected for his first time. Magnus can tell he's getting close by his increasingly erratic breathing, and by the pulsing of the vein against his tongue. He pulls back off but keeps pumping with his hand. "Do you want to come on my face or in my mouth?"

Alec stares at him in slack-jawed wonder, like he's never heard of either option before. "Which, uh, what do you want?"

"Since you're asking, I'd want you to come in my ass," he says nonchalantly, and Alec's hips jerk up as he begins spurting with a wanton moan.

The thick white ropes of semen end up neither on his face nor in his mouth, just sort of messily everywhere, half on his chest and half on Alec himself. 

"I am so sorry," Alec groans in embarrassment, hand over his face as his cock still pulsates weakly with the last of his cum.

"I'm not," Magnus says, darting forward with his tongue for a little taste of his fluid. "I'm flattered."

It takes a while for Alec to recover, from his orgasm or his embarrassment Magnus isn't quite sure. He gives him a moment by going to explore his bathroom (sparse, utilitarian, boring) and returning with a warm wet cloth. He's cleaned half of the mess off his thighs when Alec stirs, sitting up and taking over, tenderly wiping at the spatters on Magnus's décolletage and fixing up his face.

"How do you feel?" Magnus asks.

Instead of answering, Alec says, "Can I ask you for one more thing?"

Magnus nods his assent.

"Can I kiss you?"

Magnus doesn't have a no-kissing rule per se, but his clients have always understood it's not what courtesans are for. He's never had to say no because they've never asked. But Alec looks absolutely irresistible, still flushed and sweaty from their activities, lips bitten to an absolutely debauched shade of red. Magnus leans forward and presses his own lips to them.

It's a short kiss. Alec clearly doesn't know what he's doing. But it's also warm and aching, and Alec wraps a hand around the back of Magnus's head to draw him in close. 

He gets a little lost in it, and it takes him a few seconds to register once Alec pulls away that he's being asked to leave.

"What?"

He's not expecting a blowjob in return, or even to stay the night, if Alec doesn't want him to. But he had been looking forward to some cuddling, maybe some making out, showing Alec how to kiss better. He doesn't understand why Alec is suddenly calling a mundane cab for him and bundling him into it hurriedly with just a quick goodnight peck on the cheek before slamming the door shut. 

The sound of it shutting feels like being doused with a bucket of icy water.

Magnus leans his head against the cold window next to the backseat of the car and contemplates why he's such a fucking idiot. He thought he had felt something between them. But how could there be, between a warlock who's been reduced to selling his body and a Shadowhunter who's so repressed that his own sister had to call a courtesan for him. 

He closes his eyes for the rest of the way home so he doesn't have to see the driver looking at him with judgement and pity through the rearview mirror.

* * *

Alec dreads breakfast the next morning.

Izzy and Jace sit at their usual table with their eggs and toast, looking at him with eyes so sharp and _expectant_ that he's reminded of birds of prey. 

"Well?"

"Well what?" Alec hides behind his coffee and wonders if it's not too late to call in sick. Who is he kidding, he knows they're supposed to drop dead in the line of duty before they get a day off. 

"Well, how did it go?" Izzy says, raising her eyebrows. Next to her, Jace is waggling his.

"Do you seriously expect me to tell you _details_?" Alec hisses.

"Oh ho ho, so there are details to tell!" Jace crows, delighted.

This, this is exactly what Alec didn't want Magnus sticking around to be subjected to. He already knows that Magnus is uncomfortable in the Institute, even late at night without so many people milling around the halls. Making him stay the night to endure the full force of everyone leering at him and making _implications_ was just unthinkable. Alec needs to protect him, not just from Shadowhunters in general but from his siblings specifically, because they are a menace.

He refuses to give them the satisfaction of any further answers and clams up for the rest of breakfast. He's been trained to withstand torture, he can get through this.

Once everybody disperses after the meal, though, Alec draws Izzy aside and asks her in a furtive undertone for Magnus's contact information.

"Why do you need it? You planning on setting up a round two, big brother?" she asks slyly. 

Alec can feel himself going bright red. He tells her maybe it's more than that. Maybe he wants to see Magnus again, not just for sex. 

The look on her face can only be described as glee. She puts Magnus's number into Alec's phone herself, opens the messaging app for him and would have probably started writing what she wanted him to say if he hadn't hurriedly snatched it back. 

"You should do this. Explore your feelings, get out there, have experiences," she gushes, following him as he tries to run away from her.

He fully plans to.


	2. Chapter 2

Magnus is in the middle of brewing tea when he gets a call from an unknown number. 

There are a lot of things he is annoyed that he now must do the mundane way, but brewing tea isn't one of them. There's something soothing about going through the motions, the slow rise of the steam, the way the aroma gradually suffuses the room that he truly appreciates, and might do by hand still even if he got his magic back. A useless pipe dream, and one he has spent fruitless years trying to train himself out of pondering.

He carefully sets the kettle down and picks up his phone, expecting it to be business.

"Hi, Magnus?"

It's Alec Lightwood.

Magnus panics and hangs up, dropping the phone like it's burnt him.

It lies facedown on the countertop for all of three seconds before it starts ringing again.

Magnus takes a deep breath and sternly tells himself that he's too old to be this pathetic. "Hello?"

"Magnus, hi, it's Alec, sorry, I think our call dropped?"

"Must have been a bad connection," Magnus agrees, his heart fluttering away in his chest like a silly moth. He has to work to remind himself that he's mad at Alec, feels insulted by the way he treated him.

"Are you free this Saturday night?" Alec asks, like he hadn't thrown Magnus out like something dirty as soon as he shot his load into it.

"What I am this Saturday night is none of your business, Mr. Lightwood," he finally recovers his wits enough to say. "I demand respect from the Nephilim, even if you all have to lie through your arrogant teeth to give a veneer of it."

There was a pause before Alec said, "I don't understand—"

"I'm not some used tissue to be tossed away after you've had your fun," Magnus interrupts so he doesn't have to hear Alec lie. "Even as inexperienced as you were, the amendments in the Accords make it very clear what courtesans are and are not in this day and age."

"Magnus, I would _never_ —"

"And to think that I actually thought…" He lets himself trail off before he reveals too much about his own foolishness.

Alec pounces on the opportunity to finally get a word in. "I wasn't tossing you out. Or, I didn't mean to, and I'm really sorry that you thought I was. You were so uncomfortable at the Institute, you only relaxed when we were finally in my room and I locked the door. I didn't want you to feel like you had to stay. But you're right, I shouldn't have decided for you, I was…I was presumptuous. Let me make it up to you. Please." His words get more and more rushed as he reaches the end, to prevent Magnus from interrupting again.

It's certainly a pretty story. One Magnus finds hard to believe, but he remembers how Alec's hand had felt on his back when he escorted him around the weapons rack, and against his better judgement he says, "Fine."

"I swear I'll never—wait, really?" Alec fumbles around like he had prepared a different script that he now needs to go off. Finally, he settles on, "Can I take you out to dinner?"

"Saturday, right?"

"Yeah, yes, unless that doesn't work for you? I can do another night that's better for you."

"Saturday works."

"Okay! Great. Okay. I don't know where to pick you up. I guess we can meet at the Institute? I won't make you come inside, I'll wait for you out front. And you have my number now, so feel free to text or call if you need anything before then."

Magnus murmurs some kind of assenting noise before hanging up and throwing his phone back onto the counter. He puts his face in both hands and hyperventilates for just few minutes. Oh my god. What is he doing. What is _Alec_ doing? He can't genuinely be that sweet, he can't. If Magnus believes what he said, then he'll have to believe that he's just inexperienced rather than cruel, that he might hold Magnus in a higher regard than he was led to believe, and he's not sure he can handle such an enticing thought.

* * *

Alec hopes with all his might that he's not visible to anyone looking out the windows of the Institute, because he's hovering on the edge of the grounds outside with a bouquet of flowers clutched in one hand and he desperately does not want anyone to ask what he's doing.

He's been looking forward to tonight with a mixture of anticipation and fear. All week, whenever he wasn't busy and his mind got a chance to wander, he's returned over and over to the thought that he lost his virginity. With Magnus. In Magnus's mouth. He's been thinking a lot about Magnus's mouth. He wants to kiss it again. 

He's also been worried about what Magnus apparently thought happened. Hence the flowers, on Izzy's recommendation. He had been too embarrassed to tell her the whole problem, but even with the vague details he gave, she'd been confident in assuring him that flowers would work. 

So now he stands in the cooling evening air, holding a bunch of pink lilies, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, trying not to break out into a nervous sweat and ruin the nice shirt Jace and Izzy had gotten him from…somewhere. 

Magnus hadn't contacted him further after their call, despite Alec's hopes that he might put his phone number to some use, but his fears that Magnus might not show up at all are assuaged by the jingling sound of metal clinking in time to steps. 

It's Magnus, and he looks like an absolute vision. His hair is styled, his makeup is immaculate, his fingers are bejeweled, his jacket has a confusingly large number of nonsensical chains that don't really go anywhere or do anything, his jeans have an equally large number of rips, and his shoes are incredibly shiny. Alec has to consciously focus on not clenching his fists so he doesn't crush the bouquet that he brought for him.

"Hello, Alexander," Magnus greets him, and his voice is as entrancing as Alec remembers but he sounds guarded.

"Here," Alec says, shoving the flowers at him in a hurry to chase his hesitance away. "These are for you. I did some research on Downworld restaurants and there's one within walking distance if you don't mind a long walk. You look really nice, by the way."

Magnus accepts the lilies and looks blindsided for a moment, but he dips his head to smell them and by the time he looks back up he's once again perfectly composed. "Thank you," he says, lips quirking. "A Downworld restaurant sounds lovely."

Two realizations come to Alec simultaneously: that Magnus probably already knows every Downworlder restaurant on this side of the country and doesn't need Alec's clumsy recommendations, and that Alec has saddled him with an armful of foliage that he will now have to carry the whole way there. In too deep to turn back, Alec forges bravely onwards. "Do you want me to take those for you until we get to the restaurant? Or I can take them back inside and get them delivered to you??"

Magnus laughs in a quick burst that sounds unintentional. "No, that's alright, I quite like holding them." He hovers his unoccupied hand out meaningfully until Alec takes the hint and offers an arm for him to wind it through.

They walk in companionable silence for a while, Magnus occasionally leaning down to inhale the delicate floral scent from his bouquet, and Alec admiring the graceful curve of his neck each time. It doesn't feel real to have a man as breathtaking as Magnus on his arm, their bodies brushing against each other every few steps. It doesn't make sense, how he can go from being lonely and terrified of the truth he had to live to going on his first ever date, all in under two weeks.

"For the record," Magnus says, breaking him out of his thoughts, "this is more in line with how I expect to be treated, and I did not bring my wallet."

Right. Alec had almost managed to forget that whole misunderstanding. "Please, of course I'll be paying," he says, acutely pained by his embarrassment. "I should've been clearer with you, last time. I really didn't mean to make you feel…mistreated," he gropes for the right words, words that would speak to Magnus. "And since I've learned my lesson, let me be clear right now: this is a date. I asked you out on a date. I'll pay for everything even if we don't, you know, _do_ anything. Because I'm the one who asked you out. Don't even say the word 'wallet' to me, it's offensive."

Alec doesn't know how convincing of a persuader he is, but he's fairly sure he's not imagining it when Magnus seems to perk up more, his steps a little peppier. 

They arrive at the restaurant and immediately put everyone else on edge. No one looks comfortable with a Shadowhunter present, but no one says anything overtly or makes a fuss, which is about the best Alec can hope for. 

Magnus is already familiar with the menu, and Alec lets him order for both of them. After a lifetime of Institute food, there is literally nothing he's incapable of eating, so he's not worried about whether he'll like it. And Alec may be completely clueless in the arts of courtship, but even he knows enough to pour Magnus's wine for him when it comes.

"So, you've been reading warlock Yelp to find a place to take me, hmm?" Magnus teases mildly, swirling the ruby red liquid in his glass. It matches the polish on his nails tonight.

Alec doesn't know what Yelp is, but he gets the gist of what he's saying and ducks his head, embarrassed to admit, "Yeah, I didn't think about how you've probably been to all the Downworld restaurants in the city already."

Magnus reaches across the table to pat Alec's hand soothingly. "I do still like to frequent Downworld-owned establishments, even though I'm no longer 'actively practicing,' so to speak. It makes me feel like I'm still a part of my community, you see." 

He pauses, musing wistfully on that thought, and it makes Alec turn his hand palm-up so that he can take Magnus's and give it a comforting squeeze.

Magnus smiles crookedly. "I'm still immortal, still a warlock really, just not in the ways that count."

Alec squeezes his hand again, but before he can tell him that he counts, Magnus continues: "I didn't lose my magic, per se. I gave it up in order to perform a life-saving spell for my dearest friend's daughter. The magic is bound by the terms of the spell, so I have to live with the knowledge that it's somewhere out there, not gone, just out of reach forever. I…" H trails off before actively shaking himself out of his maudlin train of thought. He flashes a fully symmetrical, much brighter smile at Alec. "I don't know what came over me, forgive me. I'm supposed to be highly skilled in the art of _pleasant_ conversation, we shouldn't be talking about this."

Alec makes a dismissive sound in the back of his throat. "I don't care about all that. You don't have to pretend with me."

The server interrupts with their meals, so Alec doesn't get to see Magnus's reaction to that statement. 

Eager to keep the conversation going and learn more about Magnus, not to mention reinforce that Alec really didn't mean to make Magnus feel at any point like he was being treated with the prejudice common among Shadowhunters, Alec mentions that since their phone call, he's been reading up on the older histories of the courtesans as written by prominent warlock scholars.

"You have?"

"I didn't want you to think I was ignorant. I mean, I _was_ ignorant. I didn't want to be anymore."

Magnus puts down his fork and stares at Alec. 

Alec squirms. "What? Did I do something wrong?"

"No, no, darling, not at all. I'm just surprised. I remember a time when Shadowhunters would barely acknowledge that warlocks are literate at all, and now you're reading books by them." He laughs, then dabs his lips delicately with his napkin. Alec is mesmerized by the motion.

When they're done eating, Alec is frantic not to say goodbye but too awkward to know what to do next. But Magnus takes care of him. 

"Would you like to come back to mine?" he asks Alec as they step back out into the street. "You can help me put these in a vase." He shakes the bouquet of lilies that have sat patiently on the table through dinner. 

Alec flushes hot all over and can't say yes fast enough.

The journey to Magnus's home is a blur. Alec is used to covering the city using speed runes or travelling by portal; the mundane public transportation they take is more arcane than magic to him. He barely takes note of how it works, anyway, too busy staring at Magnus and being entranced by the anecdotes he tells of his warlock friends and his adventures around the world. 

There's a buzz of magic over Alec's skin when he crosses the threshold of Magnus's door. He looks at him quizzically, and Magnus explains, "My wards. I built them to last. My friend Cat helped me modify them when I lost the ability to do so myself."

Alec apologizes for bringing up something he's sure Magnus doesn't like to think about, and Magnus says, "You can make it up to me with a kiss."

Alec's mouth goes dry. He surges forward eagerly, one hand on Magnus's hip and the other cupping the back of his head, pressing his lips to Magnus's. It's their second kiss, and Alec's second kiss ever. The successful dinner has made him feel bold, and he opens his mouth slightly. Magnus licks into him and Alec lets out a low moan. 

Magnus breaks away before Alec can completely disintegrate into a pile of dust on his floor. "We need to put these in water first," he reminds Alec, indicating the flowers he's still holding. "I don't want them to wilt."

Alec watches Magnus putter around his cupboards looking for a vase, then filling it from the tap and arranging all the stems to his liking so they'll sit nicely for display. He stalks up behind him and puts two large hands on his shoulders. "Okay, I think it's good enough," he says into Magnus's ear, low and rough. 

He feels Magnus's body shiver beneath his hands, before he turns around and wraps his arms around Alec's neck. "Oh, you do, do you?" he hums, fingers scritching into the hair at Alec's nape. "Enough attention for the lilies, it's your turn?"

It sounds silly when Magnus says it like that, but Alec nods anyway.

"Don't worry," Magnus says, leaning up to kiss him, mouth open and wet, "I'll give you all my attention. All of it."

Magnus walks him backwards into his bedroom, and Alec has about five seconds to look around and think that the antique trunks, large carved mirror, ornate bedposts, and golden sheets are all very Magnus and therefore lovely, before he's on his back in Magnus's bed, hot hands working open his flies.

"Take your shirt off for me. I never did get to look at you last time."

Alec complies quickly, resisting his ingrained impulse to fold the shirt and just chucking it off the bed. Magnus's fingers rake down his abs approvingly, and his hips buck up.

The mouth that he's lost whole hours to daydreaming about all week is back around his cock, and after a while Magnus shuffles up and grabs something out of the drawer of his end table. Alec hears the pop of a cap being snapped open, and opens the eyes he had squeezed shut.

He sees Magnus dribbling lube onto his hand. He drags his slicked hand languorously up Alec's swollen cock from root to tip, and Alec chokes on a gasp. His fist is coated and slippery and he lets Alec fuck up into it for a bit before he trails it down, down past Alec's balls and resting the pad of one finger at his entrance. 

"Is this okay?" he asks, tone so entirely free of expectations that Alec genuinely believes it doesn't matter how he answers.

Alec nods so hard that his now free cock bobs against his stomach. "Yes. Yes it's okay. Please."

Magnus is careful with him. He eases him open slowly, with lots of lube, first one finger and then two. He crooks them and finds Alec's prostate with truly impressive precision. Alec yelps, grinding his ass down onto Magnus's hand, and moans brokenly when Magnus starts fucking him with his fingers. 

The stretch feels weird because of it unfamiliarity, but the pleasure radiating from his centre outwards throughout his body is so all-encompassing that it's easy to forget everything else. 

As soon as Magnus's other hand wraps around his neglected cock, it's all over. Alec shoots streams of pearly white all across his own chest with a shout, while Magnus murmurs, "That's it, darling, that's it," and pumps him through it. 

"Oh my god," he says, flopping back down from where he had pushed himself up onto his elbows to watch Magnus. He's still twitching pleasantly from the aftershocks, and whimpers when Magnus pulls his fingers out of him. 

Magnus looks—indescribable. He looks composed at a quick glance, still clothed and hair mostly still styled, with just a wisp falling onto his forehead. But look closer and there's a flush across his exquisite cheekbones, a swell to his bottom lip from sinking his teeth into it, a bead of sweat at the hollow of his throat.

He's so beautiful that Alec can't help but push himself up again, reaching out to Magnus and pulling him down on top of him, saying sorry over and over as he smears his cum all over his nice shirt.

"I don't care, I don't care," Magnus laughs breathlessly. 

Alec wrestles the ruined shirt off of him, and his pants too. He wants to touch Magnus, didn't get the chance to last time, and Magnus shakes in his arms as he closes his hand around his achingly hard length. 

What he lacks in experience, Alec makes up for in applied diligence. He starts by jacking Magnus now he likes to do it himself, then categorizes each reaction to each movement until he figures out what Magnus likes more. He thumbs a circle around the hole at the head and he drinks in the way Magnus's legs fall open as he cries out. 

"The last time," he says, between fervent kisses, when he can bear to pull away for breath, "I really wanted to try putting my mouth there too—" Magnus moans "—but I didn't want to overstep or make you uncomfortable. But I kept thinking about it, even after you left."

Magnus clings to his shoulders, thrusting wantonly into his hand, keening. "Well you're going to have to wait until next time again, because I can't—I'm gonna—" 

Alec feels him pulse in hand. He bites gently at his lips and greedily swallows the sounds he makes. It's exhilarating, the power his touch has on Magnus. He's never made anyone feel like this before. He holds him tight until they both stop trembling.

* * *

After their post-coital bliss fades, Alec acts like the total gentleman Magnus had half suspected he was only pretending to be, back when they first met.

He asks Magnus where the bathroom is, and then pauses and asks if Magnus would be comfortable with him going to use his bathroom. Magnus says yes, then buries his head in his pillowcase and despairs. 

He's never taken a client home before. It feels stupid and monumental. He wants to tell Alec that he's the first, but he doesn't want Alec to know it means something. Especially when Alec returns from the bathroom with a warm wet washcloth and gently wipes Magnus's belly clean. It's too much. 

"Do you want me to get you some water, or anything else?" Alec asks, hovering by the bedside, holding the dirty towel, and Magnus remembers Alec has never done this before. He's never experienced _afterglow_ , everything is still so new for him. 

"No, darling, I want you to come back to bed," Magnus drawls, stretching luxuriously. He watches Alec watch him. Making grabby hands at the washcloth, he takes it when Alec hands it to him and flings it without looking in the general direction of his laundry hamper. It makes a wet thump on the floor. He tsks when Alec makes an aborted movement to go put it away properly and darts up to pull Alec back down into the sea of blankets.

Alec is an awkward cuddler, but Magnus makes it work. He forces Alec's limbs where he wants them and puts his head on his chest, waiting for him to relax. He complies and holds Magnus, but doesn't quite stop feeling like he's standing at attention lying down somehow. 

"Alexander," Magnus starts, hoping to distract him into unwinding, "did you know that I don't usually—" but no, it's still too much. Magnus loses his nerve and says instead, "I don't usually get quite so lost in the throes of passion? Not the way I do with you."

He internally winces, because it sounds so much like a line. But Alec beams at him like he totally believes it.

"Well, that's not to say I'm not a very good lover who makes each of my clients feel very wanted and sexy," Magnus backtracks, and Alec leans down to kiss him before he can say more. 

"I know, you're the best courtesan in all the land. I'll fight anyone who doesn't think so," Alec says, and Magnus huffs, swatting his chest.

They fall into a companionable and sleepy silence. As Magnus's lids start to grow heavy, he hears Alec drowsily say, "It's true, I would."

Magnus doesn't reply, just nuzzles his nose into his chest and closes his eyes properly.

"And I believe you about the other thing, too. I kind of guessed," Alec mumbled, before trailing off into sleep. 

In the morning, Magnus feels about twenty times more conflicted than he did last night. Forget never bringing a client home before, he's never let anyone _stay the night_ before. To prevent himself from having an unattractive nervous breakdown about it, Magnus channels the manic energy zinging beneath his skin into getting up uncharacteristically early and making breakfast. 

He's a fine cook, if he says so himself, and Alec had divulged over dinner conversation last night that he had a secret sweet tooth. Magnus bustles around the kitchen making pancakes and various fruit compotes, drenching everything in syrup and hand-whipping fresh cream.

Alec emerges from the bedroom in his rumpled boxers, his hair sticking up every which way. He runs a hand over his stubble muzzily, and covers a yawn. Magnus can tell without even checking that he definitely made sure to pick up the discarded washcloth from last night and put it properly into the bin, and it makes him beat the cream with a renewed fervor.

"Good morning," Alec says, wandering on soundless feet to Magnus and wrapping his arms around him from behind. 

Magnus refuses to let his hands not be busy, but there's already a huge spread of various flavours of sweet breakfast treats on the counter and it's obvious they're all for Alec.

"This looks amazing," Alec says, reaching out to try a spoonful of strawberry reduction. "Tastes as good as it looks. Thank you," he whispers before kissing behind Magnus's ear. Magnus shivers, and hopes Alec assumes it's because of the tickle of his breath ghosting sugary sweet across his skin.

Alec puts his arm back around him after he puts the spoon down. "I'm going to ask you out to dinner again," he tells him, "tomorrow, if you're free."

"I'm going to say yes," Magnus says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for making it to chapter 2 with me! What did you think of this one? Do you think what Magnus divulged about how he lost his magic was a bit of foreshadowing? Is that a super obviously leading question? :P  
> As we get into the more plotty developments of this story, the focus does get less porny, but I hope you're enjoying what there is so far, lol. I don't think of myself as a super competent porn writer but it is fun to be able to show their growing intimacy. Let me know if you liked it, and if you're looking forward to next week's update :).


	3. Chapter 3

"Oh, oh my _god_ ," Magnus gasps, voice cracking on the last word as Alec thrusts home inside him. 

The backs of his knees are hooked on Alec's broad shoulders. The Shadowhunter has him bent almost in half, and their skin glides slick with sweat glides over each other with every grind of Alec's hips. 

Alec had claimed that he's never done this before, but the way he's hitting Magnus's prostate has him seeing bright starbursts of colour behind his eyelids because he can't keep his eyes from scrunching shut, and he has serious trouble believing that Alec hasn't had _practice_.

"Good?" Alec asks. That, more than anything, corroborates that he wasn't lying. He doesn't know what he's doing to Magnus, isn't sure that it's absolutely perfect, doesn't seem to know that he's making him fall apart at the seams. 

"Yeah, it's good," Magnus confirms, reaching up to cup his hands around the back of Alec's neck, squeezing reassuringly, encouragingly. "So good."

His gentle ministrations turn involuntarily into a hard grip, fingers digging into Alec's gloriously well-sculpted trapezius muscles before clawing down his back, as Alec drives his cock relentlessly against every perfect spot. 

Magnus cries out, his volume peaking in time to Alec's movements. He's so hard and leaking so much that it's making a wet mess on their stomachs. He might seriously come without his dick being touched, which hasn't happened in longer than he can remember. 

And then Alec changes up his rhythm. His steady pumping turns into to slow, torturous circles, and it draws a long moan from Magnus. He shifts his weight, letting one of Magnus's legs slide off him so he can work a hand between them, palm trapping Magnus's length against his abs.

" _Oh_ ," Magnus whimpers as Alec rubs him. The muscles of his inner thighs are sore with how much he keeps unconsciously widening his legs, trying to spread himself open for Alec. 

With his lower lip between his teeth and a deep furrow between his brows, Alec looks like he's focused on a mission. It makes Magnus want to kiss the line between his eyes, but he's not in control of his body anymore. He's floating on ever higher waves of pleasure, cresting in time with Alec's hand and his slow, deep thrusts. 

He comes quietly, mouth open but too overwhelmed to make a sound. The look on Alec's face changes from determination to satisfaction, like he's pleased with a job well done. He doesn't stop thrusting, and each brush against his oversensitive prostate mixes with the lingering shocks of Magnus's fading orgasm, keeping him afloat for a while longer.

When Alec finally comes, burying his face in Magnus's neck to muffle his groans, Magnus can feel him pulse inside him. His own cock twitches painfully with the futile desire to get instantly hard again. 

Alec falls over onto his narrow Institute bed with a moan, lying boneless and dangerously close to the edge.

Magnus lies half-trapped under him, catching his breath. He moves to close his deliciously aching legs and feels Alec's cum dribble out of him. He tries not to make a face, in case Alec can see, but Alec doesn't move.

"Have I broken you?" Magnus inquires, poking his be-runed shoulder.

"Yes," Alec says emphatically, not lifting his head.

Magnus laughs. "Well, if it's any consolation, the feeling is mutual. I feel positively _ruined_."

At that, Alec does turn to look at Magnus, his cheek against the mattress next to Magnus's ribs. Even the post-coital flush on his face can't hide that he's blushing. 

Magnus reaches over and brushes a knuckle over Alec's cheekbone. Alec nuzzles into his hand like one of the cats he feeds on his balcony, and Magnus stifles a chuckle. 

"Honestly though, that was…spectacular. Almost too spectacular." He pinches Alec lightly. "Did you ask Jace for lessons?"

Alec lets out a horrified squawk, head-butting his hand away so he can shove up and bury his face under his standard issue and honestly rather flat and rough pillow. 

Amused, Magnus waits for him to resurface, but when he doesn't for long moments he starts to worry he's accidentally said something that truly crossed a line. "Alexander? My deepest apologies, I didn't mean to offend—"

"I'm not offended," Alec says, muffled through the pillow. "I mean, it was a disturbing mental image and I beg you to never say that again, but I'm…" He shifts so one eye peeks out, but then dives back under the pillow. "I'm embarrassed," he groans.

"About your former crush on Jace?"

He groans again, louder, and kicks Magnus, albeit very very gently. "No! About. About why you thought I was so good."

Magnus shuffles over until he can worm his way down beneath the same pillow. "You _were_ good," he purrs, " _so_ good." He can't see Alec too clearly given how close their faces are and how the half dislodged pillow still blocks the light, but he can feel the heat coming off his red-warm face.

"I used an accuracy rune," he mumbles.

Magnus cackles in delight. "You what?!" 

"Don't laugh at me," Alec pouts, shoving him away, but not with enough force to move him anywhere.

"I'm not laughing at you, darling," Magnus laughs at him, "I'm laughing because I'm happy. Pleased. Never before in all my life have the sacred powers bestowed upon the Nephilim by the angels themselves been used to maximize my pleasure."

"I regret everything."

"I don't." Magnus slyly slides his bare leg between Alec's. "Now come take a shower with me before we suffocate under this pillow and your poor siblings eventually find our dead bodies covered in the evidence of just how _precise_ you were with your passion."

Alec makes another noise of deep suffering, and mutters something about how he should kick Magnus out of the Institute again like the first time. 

"Sure. I dare you to." Knowing it's an empty threat, Magnus pushes out of bed to stand up and stretch all of the sore muscles in his body, the dim light in Alec's room painting his nude form in intriguing shadows. 

As expected, Alec is weak against such an assault on the visual senses and gets up too. 

The shower in Alec's en suite is almost as useless as his pillows. The Institute can't seem to get anything necessary for a life worth living right. Not only is the water pressure deplorable, the temperature refuses to get up to Magnus's standards. Luckily, he has Alec there to warm things up.

* * *

Izzy has told him about what the mundanes call 'the walk of shame' before. Of course, she had said it while scoffing and decrying how pathetically scared of women's sexual agency the patriarchy can be, but Alec had gotten enough of the gist to understand that this is what it feels like. This is his walk of shame.

Never mind that he's walking from his own room, down a corridor of his own Institute, to his sister's room. He feels like there's a glaring neon sign above his head screaming that he had sex last night. And this morning. He feels like everyone can see his whorish ways just by looking at him, even though the few people milling around this early aren't looking at him at all. He feels obvious. And he can't even say he feels as ashamed as he probably should.

He knocks on Izzy's door and, when she doesn't answer, pounds on it with a more forceful fist.

"This had better be a life or death emergency," she yawns as she opens it, and he pushes past her inside quickly.

"I need to borrow eyeliner," he says.

"What? Why? …What?"

He checks behind him to make sure the door is closed firmly. "For Magnus," he hisses quietly. "I need some eyeliner and maybe some of that powder with sparkles in it." So Magnus can look nice before he braves the stares of every Shadowhunter in the building.

Izzy smirks the most smug and _knowing_ smirk Alec has ever seen in his life, and as she opens her mouth he cuts her off. "Don't say it. Just give me the stuff and I'll let you talk to him at breakfast."

Highly skilled in the art of calculating what battle losses to accept in order to win a war, Izzy takes the deal, though not without a lot more smirking.

The humiliation is worth it, Alec decides, when Magnus wakes up and Alec presents him with his haul. He hadn't asked for it—Alec had known, without being told, that he would appreciate it. The way his sleepy face blossoms into delight is worth just about anything.

In fresh makeup and last night's clothes, Magnus allows Alec to lead him to the dining hall. 

There are, as expected, a lot of stares, but no reprimands as there's technically nothing in the rules that say courtesans can't dine at the Institute, and Magnus's ban from the building was lifted years ago. Izzy has saved seats for them and looks like she's barely stopping herself from vibrating with excitement. She pulls out the chair beside her and insists that Magnus sit there.

"You look so good," she coos, "I've never tried to use that eyeshadow to make a sharp wing before, it looks amazing."

"Thank you, Isabelle; you're far too kind," Magnus responds. 

Alec thinks he looks beautiful and long-suffering, noble in his forbearance of all the whispers and shifty glances sent his way and of Izzy being incredibly embarrassing. He gets up to fetch breakfast for both of them, the idea of Magnus standing in a line holding a tray completely unthinkable. When he returns with two meals in hand, he comes back to a nightmare.

Jace has joined the table, and he's introducing his new girlfriend to Magnus.

"I thought Shadowhunters were trained from birth?" Magnus is in the middle of asking.

Alec manages to set down their food without slamming the trays on the table, but it's a close call. "She's a special exception," he intones, already annoyed.

Clary, in her usual bubbly way, explains the whole complicated history of her mother, father, and step-father as well as her recent misadventures in a much shorter summary than Alec would've thought possible. He would almost be impressed, if he weren't so busy grinding his teeth. He focuses on transferring his portion of bacon to Magnus's plate, knowing he's partial to a bit of breakfast junk meat even though he'd never admit it. Under the table, Magnus pats his knee, and he immediately feels more content. 

"I know all too well what it's like to be dropped into a different life than the one you had been expecting," Magnus says, reaching across the table to link his hand with Clary's. They share a meaningful smile with each other, their friendship already firmly forged, and Alec feels…less content.

Jace and Izzy both look awfully pleased about both how much they like each other and how much it irritates Alec, and Alec sighs through his nose. 

His siblings are welcoming and accommodating of Magnus, when they can get a word in edgewise amongst Clary and Magnus' cheerful chattering. Even Jace, in his own way—he only makes fun of Magnus's fashion a little bit, and backs off on the sexual innuendos when Alec's spluttering makes him realize they cause collateral damage. He glares so hard at a young trainee who tries to get too close to their table to leer at Magnus that the trainee stumbles back, which confirms Alec's suspicion that Jace is showing his friendship to Magnus the best way he knows how: by being an ass. 

It all rolls off Magnus like water on waxed canvas, anyway. He gives no visible sign of noticing anyone looking at him, and he takes Jace's jibes with a smile and a witty repartee right back. 

Despite the rare unusual guest at breakfast, it still is a regular work day and eventually Alec has to see Magnus off. He walks him out to the awaiting taxi and can't resist a goodbye kiss, dipping Magnus slightly just to hear him squeal and giggle. One of his hands wanders to Magnus's ass, more specifically his back pocket, tucking in a few bills to pay for the cab and a few extra just because he can.

He enters the Ops Centre with a spring in his step, and even the smug little sideways grins Izzy keeps shooting him can't ruin how happy he that Magnus fit in so well with the people he cares about the most.

* * *

Never let it be said that Alec Lightwood isn't a perfectionist. Magnus used to think it's a Shadowhunter trait, but now that he's gotten to know Jace, Izzy, and Clary a lot better, he knows it isn't that. 

It's something specific to Alec's personality, the way he's a solemn person at the heart of it all. Even in silly moments, when they're laughing over a story Magnus tells with exaggerated impressions of the people involved or play-fighting with ineffectual wrestling moves that inevitably turn dirty, Alec will lapse into bouts of seriousness, looking into Magnus's eyes to proclaim something unbearably sweet and earnest. And in bed, when they fuck like they haven't a care in the world, Alec will put his own pleasure on hold to single-mindedly pursue the goal of bringing Magnus to new heights.

Alec fundamentally thinks that anything worth doing is worth doing well. And when that thing is taking Magnus on dates, by Magnus's own decree, well, let's just say this is the fourth time this month Magnus has been treated to a prix fixe menu at an upscale restaurant. 

They clink their wine glasses together in a toast and Magnus laughs at the grimace Alec makes at the taste of the wine. 

"You don't have to drink it if you don't like it," he says. He's ordered a dry white this time instead of the rich red that Alec has at least had to chance to get used to. 

"No," Alec says grimly. "I can't have every mundane in this place thinking you're dating some knucklehead who doesn't know how to drink wine." He takes another sip and makes the same face, but worse.

Magnus laughs again, softer. He trails a finger over the rim of the glass and says, "You know, when I yelled at you on the phone that time about being used to finer things—which I apologize for, in hindsight…" Now that he knows more thoroughly than he ever imagined possible that Alec had meant no harm.

"Don't, I deserved it," Alec interrupts before Magnus can pick back up. "I was an idiot and if I could go back in time, I would _punch_ the old me right in the teeth for making you feel like that."

Magnus reaches across the table to lay his hand on the back of Alec's, as though he might actually need to hold him back from figuring out time travel just to carry out his threat. "Be that as it may, darling," Magnus brushes soothingly across his knuckles, "you have certainly made up for it. When I said I expected to be treated well, even I didn't mean _this_ well." 

In the past few months, Alec has lavished him with gifts, money, attention, compliments, everything that he likes and that Alec has taken the time to learn he likes. Some of the clothing and jewellery he's received is of a sophistication in discernment that he knows is beyond Alec, which means Alec has even asked Isabelle and Clary for their input. He knows how much Alec would've had to swallow his pride to do that, and out of everything Alec has showered him with, that's what he cherishes most of all. That effort, that willingness to put Magnus first just to make him smile. 

"I've never been romanced like this before. I'm worried you're putting yourself to too much trouble."

Alec looks at him, assessing. He seems to come to a conclusion, but instead of saying whatever it is, he just turns his hand beneath Magnus's so he can hold it, palm to palm. "Romancing you is fun," he says lightly, "just let me do it."

"It's fun for me too," Magnus assures him, "but I know Shadowhunters aren't exactly paid extravagantly." He gestures at their opulent surroundings, their gourmet meal, their vintage wine. 

"The Clave tried to publicly humiliate me into quitting the Institute because I didn't fit into their vision of who I should be in my private life," Alec says, and he's very serious again. "Spending every penny they pay me on little pots of glitter for your face brings me nothing but satisfaction."

"Well, when you put it that way, is there any chance we could order more dessert and expense it directly to them?"

They share a mischievous smile over crème brûlée, that secret language not just of lovers but of co-conspirators.

When they're finished with dinner they decide to walk home to Magnus's rather than take any mundane transit, the evening weather pleasant enough for a long stroll. Magnus's hand fits in the crook of Alec's elbow like it's never belonged anywhere else. 

"If we see any demons skulking in shadows of any alleyways, we are going to ignore them and let them run around eating as many children as they want. You are _not_ allowed to leave me for a work emergency again. I forbid it."

Alec laughs and pulls Magnus closer to him, squeezing him. "I know you don't mean that. You gave up your magic just to save one child, you're not letting anyone get eaten." 

"That was before my tall, dark, and handsome paramour ran out on me _twice_ in the past two weeks to go fight monsters," Magnus says, waving his free hand in elegantly expressive patterns. It truly is a testament to how comfortable he is with Alec that the reference to his lost magic doesn't even upset him. "Things have changed. I've changed."

"I'm really sorry about that," Alec says, soft and sincere. "The Clave's been on my ass since I publicly embarrassed them by coming out at my own attempted wedding, so I've been trying to prove to them I'm still…good. Good at my job, good at following orders, good enough to run the whole damn thing someday so I can make some real change happen."

Magnus flicks his hand like he's swatting the apology out of the air. "You don't have to tell me that, Alexander, I was only teasing. I know, and I believe in you. You'll be an amazing Consul someday."

Alec scoffs.

"No, listen. The sky's the limit for you and what you'll accomplish. Or maybe you'll get rid of the position of Consul entirely, dismantle the whole existing structure itself, to build something better."

From his lack of response, Magnus can tell he's processing the idea. Perhaps he's processing the fact that anyone even thinks that highly of his ability to make change in the world, poor boy certainly hadn't been raised to buck tradition.

He lets the quiet stretch out for a while, because it doesn't feel bad. It feels like Alec is absorbing it, trying to figure out if he can reconcile how he sees himself with how Magnus sees him. Magnus pats his arm and breaks the silence by saying, "To hell with the Clave. You're too good for them, and they're utter hypocrites for pretending they've never had indiscretions if their own." 

They arrive at Magnus's door and his eyes scan Alec's face, searching for any sign that he's scandalized by Magnus's pronouncement of where he thinks the Clave should go. He understands Alec's relationship to Shadowhunter societal expectations a lot better now, having spent many nights listening to his childhood regrets and the hopes he plans to shape into goals. But the Law is the Law, as those people like to say so much, and some things can be ingrained indelibly no matter how much you grow.

Alec leans in to give him a polite kiss goodnight, and Magnus finds absolutely nothing on his expression besides an expectant anticipation, waiting to be asked to stay instead of told goodbye. Magnus has no doubt he would leave without resentment if he did indeed bid him goodnight—but of course he invites him in. 

He flutters to the bar cart to mix them cocktails while Alec settles in, casually resuming his thoughts from earlier. "The Clave has no footing to stand on, they've embarrassed themselves more than you could ever affect their reputation. Do you know how courtesans first started?" 

"I've read some histories," Alex reminds him, sounding comfortable on the sofa.

As if Magnus could forget. He's suffused with warmth whenever he recalls how much effort Alec had put into pushing himself past what he had been taught just because he wanted to make a better impression on Magnus. 

"Here's what I think of it," Magnus says, not letting Alec's academic knowledge of the subject dampen his preparations for a good rant. "The first enterprising warlock who became a courtesan did it because the Nephilim were hunting Downworlders like animals back then. She had no way to defend herself with no magic, and she offered herself as chattel to a notable Shadowhunter in exchange for protection. That's all well and good—one would hope that people would have a sense of morality that prevents them from owning others as sex slaves no matter what period in time, but we're sufficiently removed from it now to look back and excuse it as ancient history."

He finishes his colourful concoctions, and hands the substantially less alcoholic one to Alec, who accepts it and continues to listen without interruption, knowing better than to spoil one of Magnus's tirades once he's gained momentum.

"Over time, Shadowhunters came to rather like the status symbol of owning powerless warlocks like pets, and the Clave began to establish rules and guidelines for the whole system. But it was the courtesan warlocks themselves who used their positions to influence their masters into treating their people better, negotiating for emancipation and better payment and even better relations with full-powered warlocks, until they attained the status they enjoy today. Everything we have, we fought for tooth and nail for ourselves. It wasn't the Clave weighing in with rationality and a keen sense of justice that shaped the course of our fate. In fact, the Clave actively impeded the march of progress numerous times. They aren't the impartial arbiters of morality they so like to pretend to be."

He pauses to catch his breath and gulp down half his drink.

Alec sets his aside so he can reach for both of Magnus's hands. He has a hint of remorse in the corners of his mouth, even though he knows Magnus was never hurt by those things that happened so long ago. Magnus is one of the lucky ones, only thrust into being a courtesan relatively recently, in an era when their station is considered prestigious.

"Therefore. In conclusion," Magnus says, losing steam now that he feels his point has been made, "the Clave has no business having an opinion on your aborted wedding. They're the ones who should be proving themselves to you."

In lieu of a reply, Alec tugs him forward into his arms. 

"So, 'to hell with the Clave' then?" Alec echoes between deep, plundering kisses that Magnus can feel all the way down into his toes.

"To hell with the Clave," Magnus agrees.

They end up with their clothes in state of shocking disarray before Magnus starts pulling them both toward the bedroom. Alec jokingly says something about taking a picture of Magnus's ass and texting them to kiss it if anyone from the Institute tries to call him about a demon emergency. Magnus, delighted by Alec's audacious language, jumps up and wraps his legs around his waist and whispers something about exactly how he likes to be kissed on that particular body part that makes Alec fumble and nearly trip as he carries Magnus to the bed. That is the last mention either of them makes of the Clave for the rest of the night, as they spend it happily forgetting about everything but each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovelies, how did you like the update this week? Thank you all for getting to this stage with me, we're a bit over half way now. The next chapter is when the big climactic plot comes to a head...are you ready?   
> Speaking of the next chapter, I want to say a special thanks to my partner in crime and bad behaviour [Adi_Rotynd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adi_rotynd/pseuds/adi_rotynd) for all her help. As always, I bounce all of my ideas off her and she helped me figure out the backstory of this courtesan AU world, but the plot next chapter is when she helped a LOT. I can't wait for you to see it all.


	4. Chapter 4

"Oh, it's Magnus Bane!" a voice rings out across the cafeteria, bright with recognition.

Magnus smiles politely at the Shadowhunter making her way over to their table, pleasant but evidently not knowing who she is.

"Lotfia Salah," she says. "From the Cairo Institute. I'm here to help with an investigation, I didn't expect to see your handsome face."

Alec clears his throat and shifts perceptibly closer to Magnus. 

"Ah yes, my trip to Egypt was brief but truly wonderful. I'm afraid I had so much business to attend to during that excursion that I don't quite recall the details of our time together," he says the last gently, "but I'm certain you're part of the reason I look back on the whole trip so fondly."

Somewhere around the words 'so much business,' Alec had moved so close that his thigh is now essentially resting slightly on top of Magnus's. Magnus pats him on the knee dismissively, and Alec backs down only enough to be felt but not seen by the naked eye.

"Oh! Oh," Lotfia says in disappointment. "I suppose that's understandable. You're very popular, I shouldn't have expected that you would—"

"I remember your perfume," Magnus interrupts sunnily. "You're wearing the same scent now, aren't you? It came from a bottle with a glass butterfly on the cap."

At that, Lotfia flushes, nodding and stammering, pleased with the small token she's been granted from the depths of Magnus's memory. 

Magnus very deliberately puts his fork down to take Alec's hand. "Well, I'm no longer doing international tours, as it were. I've settled down somewhat." He breaks the news to her with a jeweller's touch, precise and delicate. "It warms my heart to see that you're well, though."

Somehow, despite the clear dismissal, he manages to send her away happy. She even thanks him. She smiles at the rest of the table, all openly staring at the exchange, and says goodbye to both Magnus and Alec before exiting the hall.

As is his wont, Magnus blithely ignores the entire room's eyes on him. He squeezes Alec's hand, then goes back to eating his pancakes. 

" _Dude_ ," Jace says.

"Jonathan, I beg of you, please don't call me 'dude.'"

"But dude! I'm impressed. How deep did you have to dig to come up with that perfume thing? And she's not even mad at you. You straight up told a chick you don't remember banging her, and she said thank you instead of slapping you. You have to teach me how you did that."

Clary smacks his shoulder. 

"Ow! See? I haven't even done anything and I still got slapped!"

Magnus inclines his head at Clary and ignores Jace. Turning to Alec, he murmurs, "You displayed admirable restraint."

"I respect what you do," Alec mutters.

"You only climbed on me a little bit, to stake your claim."

"Yeah, well, I'm not a saint."

"Were you embarrassed by her recognizing me in such a public fashion?""What? No, of course not. How could I be—you're literally adored from here to Egypt, I'm lucky you give me the time of day."

Magnus beams at him. He has a spot of syrup at the corner of his mouth, and it takes everything inside Alec to not lean forward and lick it off. The Institute dining hall has seen enough to gossip about for one day.

Magnus tracks Alec's sightline and dabs his lips with a napkin daintily. They look into each other's eyes for so long that Jace has to start making retching sounds to remind them breakfast time is over and there's a whole day's work ahead of them.

Alec's mood is upbeat for the rest of the morning, because he feels like he's passed some kind of test for Magnus's approval. Of course, Maryse has to come put a damper on it when word finally reaches her of what happened in the cafeteria for all to see. 

"A word please, Alec?" she hisses, storming over to interrupt him as he gives a rousing speech to some skeptical new recruits about the many merits of their Institute's strict dress code. She doesn't give him a chance to respond, simply grasping him firmly by the arm and hauling him to the side.

"How could you embarrass me and your father like this? Is it not enough that we allow this _whore_ of yours to keep eating on the hallowed grounds of this Institute, which I have tolerated for your sake all this time? Now his _clients_ have to openly solicit him here? It's just too much. It's unacceptable."

Alec has a lot of emotions raging inside him all vying to burst forth first, the most dominant one being indignation on behalf of Magnus's honour, but Izzy beats him to it.

"Oh come on, Mom," Izzy says, in that sardonic tone she only developed when she hit her teenaged years, the special one reserved for Maryse alone because she knows it incenses her mother like nothing else can, "Magnus acted very classy this morning. Ask anyone. He's way classier than Jace, or me. And dating him has made Alec so much more productive!"

Maryse's jaw visibly ticks as she clenches and unclenches her teeth. She's angry that she can't refute that claim. Alec completes missions more quickly these days, eager to finish so he can go see Magnus. His kills are cleaner, his reports are neater, he's more focused and less sullen. Unable to come up with a rejoinder, she drops it and storms out. 

Later that day, Alec catches up with Izzy to thank her.

"Magnus is my friend too, you know," she says. "I was defending him, not you."

At a loss for words, Alec hugs her. She pats his back and spares his pride by letting him be the one to pull away first.

And later that night, maybe a little bit because he wants to spite Maryse, but mostly because he wants to see him, he invites Magnus over again.

"Bold," Magnus says instead of hello, when Alec comes to the front to escort him inside. His shirt shimmers with a pattern picked out in gold thread overlaid on black velvet and he has at least twelve rings on, three of which Alec gave him. "Two nights in a row? And right after there was a scene, too. If I didn't know better, I might almost think you were trying to make some kind of statement." 

Alec pulls him into a kiss, quick and close-mouthed because he is in fact not trying to make any kind of statement. When Magnus is in his arms, he doesn't care about the people he could be making a statement to. He doesn't think about anyone else at all. 

"To hell with the Clave, remember?" Alec says, pulling him down the hall to his room.

If there's more to say on that matter, they don't get around to it. There are ears to be whispered into, hair to be pulled, lips to be kissed, clothes to be removed and carefully hung up so they don't get ruined, and a perfectly serviceable shower together for one of them to complain about.

When they do have time to talk again, lying on the bed fresh-skinned from the shower and pleasantly worn out from the activities before it, their minds turn to other topics.

"So, you've settled down, huh?" Alec says with studied casualness as he twines and untwines and re-twines their fingers. The rings Magnus has kept on catch satisfyingly against his knuckles. 

"Hmm?"

"Earlier today. That's what you said to Salah, from Cairo."

Magnus shifts onto his side so he can look at Alec but does not, in fact, look at Alec. "What would you call me, if you had to tell someone about me? Would you say I'm a courtesan you're seeing? A friend? A whore your sister hired?"

"I'd say my boyfriend," Alec says without hesitation. "And also I'd never say my sister hired you, because that would be social suicide, and I do actually have some sense of self-preservation even if you don't think so."

Magnus smiles, turns his head so he can bury his smile against the blanket. "I've stopped seeing other clients. I have for a while."

Air leaves Alec's lungs in a whoosh. He's known. It's been an unspoken understanding, and honestly a logical deduction considering how they spend so much time together that Magnus wouldn't even be able to fit anyone else in, but it's different to hear it spoken out loud. 

"I've told Catarina about you."

Now _that_ , Alec hadn't know. His fingers tighten in surprise. Alec's introduced Magnus to his whole family at this point, but that was more made necessary by circumstance. He doesn't expect, didn't think… He clears his throat so it won't crack when he asks, "That's Madzie's mom, right? The girl you did the spell for?" The child he gave up his magic to save.

"One of the closest friends I've had through the centuries," Magnus agrees.

There isn't anything Alec can think of to say in response, so they just lie there, Magnus's free hand tracing lightly over Alec's runes, until Magnus breaks the silence and states, "You still pay me."

Alec doesn't understand how that's not a non sequitur. His quirked eyebrow tells Magnus as much.

"Courtesans are paid help. Boyfriends aren’t," he clarifies. "Things get more complicated if I'm a courtesan who's also your boyfriend."

"But I like spending money on you."

Another smile from Magnus, and this time he hides it against Alec's bare chest rather than the blanket. "I do have a modest income of my own outside of this, you know. Business investments I've made over time."

"The word modest doesn't go well with you." He gets a gentle whack on the abdomen for that, but he had meant it as a compliment. "No, listen. I know you're making less than what you're used to, because of me—"

"I'm not exactly _mad_ that you're so hopelessly attractive that I've had no choice but to renounce all other clients—"

"And it makes me feel good to keep you in the lifestyle you're accustomed to," he continues to speak, bulldozing over Magnus, who seems to keep being distracted by the wrong conversation here. Alec aims past all the distractions to strike right at the heart of the real issue, and he's known across the Shadow World as a pretty good shot. "How I feel about you isn't in question. You're my boyfriend. No matter what you do for money, you're my boyfriend. 

"You're just enjoying being able to say the word 'boyfriend' now," Magnus accuses.

Alec blushes. "You're not wrong," he concedes, "except for the part where you think I have to stop buying you fancy things just because we're official."

"'Official,' good lord, my boyfriend is a middle-school virgin doodling our last names in purple hearts on a notebook."

"I used to be," Alec says, rolling over on top of Magnus and dropping his voice into something huskier. "Not anymore. You taught me."

He can see the bob of Magnus's adam's apple as he swallows. 

"My dad used to go on and on about how he never let my mother pay for dinner even once when they were dating." Alec can't resist the temptation of leaning forward to nibble at that adam's apple.

"Can we not talk about your parents when we're in this position?" Magnus says, sounding strained.

Alec doesn't let him deflect from the conversation. "Izzy has covered rent for more than a few deadbeat boyfriends in her day. The Lightwoods have a lot of pride, when it comes to providing for our mates. It's one of our many flaws." 

"'Mates'? Really?"

"So the only question for me here isn't whether I think you're my boyfriend, or whether I'm ashamed of you being a courtesan, because we've already established that those questions are pointless and you know the answer. The only one I have is whether it will make you happier if I keep paying your bills or stop paying your bills. Because that's all I care about: making you happy."

Magnus's golden eyes search Alec's for any sign that he's saying anything other than what he's saying. Alec can spot the precise moment Magnus decides to stop resisting the desire to believe him, to hear what he's truly saying and accept it as the truth.

"Maybe just some of my bills," he relents.

Alec bends down to seal the agreement with a kiss.

The next morning, Alec calls him a cab as always and escorts him to it, as always. He slips a few twenties into Magnus's pocket, but less than he would have before, and Magnus allows it. They kiss goodbye and Alec thinks that against all odds, despite all his inexperience and their combined issues, they've really found their stride in this relationship.

* * *

They're having brunch at a cute little bistro on a rare morning that Alec is both off duty and allowing Magnus to talk him into being indulgent. 

Alec doesn't often stand for things like brunch, which he considers too expensive, too unhealthy, too lazy, and also too late in the morning to be a proper meal. But Magnus had been exceptionally convincing today, and they're sipping mimosas out of crystal flutes when the fire message arrives.

"Don't you dare answer that," Magnus mutters, displeased by the intrusion. 

He drops his butter knife with a clatter when he sees Alec's expression, though. 

"What's wrong, darling?"

"It's Jace. He's been—taken." Alec is already getting up, activating his seraph blade pre-emptively, the mundanes around them none the wiser.

"Taken by whom? Or what?" Magnus spares a mournful glance for the delectable spread they're abandoning. He would normally complain more, but the urgency in Alec's face is serious.

"We've been working on tracking a greater demon," Alec says grimly, taking Magnus's hand.

"What? Why didn't you tell me about his? This is far beyond your regular—"

"It wants to negotiate."

Magnus stops himself from demanding a second time why he hasn't been updated about this sooner. Of course he hasn't. There's nothing he can do about it. He's not High Warlock anymore, or any warlock at all, but there's a vestigial feeling that he should help. His hands ache to make a portal for Alec.

"I'm taking you home first," Alec says, his tone brooking no argument. 

"No," Magnus argues. "I'm coming with you."  
Alec's grip tightens and he pulls Magnus against him, walking them both out of the restaurant in the direction of home. He doesn't even deign to reply.

"I can help," Magnus insists. Trying to dig his heels in against Alec's physical strength wouldn't work, not when he's this determined. He has to convince him with words. "Even without magic, I know more about greater demons than you. Than any of you."

Alec slows his inexorable walking.

"How many conversations have you ever had with a greater demon? I mean real conversations, not just a witty quip before you attempt to dispatch them and they disappear in a puff of smoke. I've talked to more than you've ever seen. If it wants to 'negotiate,' you're going to need someone who knows the ins and outs of how they think, what tricks they'll play." 

He tugs his wrist against Alec's grip. Alec lets him go. 

"We're wasting too much time talking about this already, let's just get over to the Institute right now," Magnus says, sensing he's gaining ground and pressing his advantage.

He's almost surprised when Alec relents, but they really _are_ losing time, and if Jace is in a dire situation then they can't afford to. 

The New York Institute is familiar to him by now, considering he practically lives there half the time these days, but he's never been inside the ops centre before, which he's heard Alec & co. refer to as the "war room." The flurry of activity it's now in sufficiently distracts Magnus from being too uncomfortable in it, in the place where generations of Shadowhunters have used the best strategies and technology at their disposal to plan the destruction of Downworlders. It's not the time to focus on that. 

It's the time to focus on Jace's predicament, which Clary explains with an admirably steady voice while Izzy surreptitiously pats her back. Lilith has him, and as far as they can tell, she seems to want an audience with Alec.

"It's obviously a trap," Magnus says. It's so obvious that he feels like it shouldn't have to be pointed out, but his experience with his foolhardy new friends has shown him that he must never assume. 

"Obviously," a Shadowhunter he doesn't know and would not count amongst his friends spits out, tone coloured with disgust.

Alec shoots that one a hard glare and he pipes down. Alec has already clearly established that Magnus is supposed to be here, upon their entrance some minutes ago. His parents had tried to protest but he had talked over them smoothly, addressing the other Shadowhunters directly with that authoritative tone he draws from his chest when he wants his commands to be obeyed and will accept no other alternative, the one that sends shivers up Magnus's spine even at inappropriate times. That, combined with Izzy immediately hooking her arm through Magnus's to draw him over to the screens and show him all the intel they have, had settled that.

A young woman whom Magnus thinks he recognizes but cannot place steps forward and identifies herself as Lydia Branwell, a representative of the Clave sent to oversee the situation. "No Shadowhunter, Alec Lightwood or otherwise, will be going to meet up with Lilith. We don't walk into traps, and we don't negotiate with greater demons." 

"Right," Alec says, "so that means we'll have to rescue Jace with brute force instead." He sounds business-like, focused, already two steps ahead into planning how to do just that.

"No." Lydia's voice is steady and sure. "The Clave has ruled that we will not engage with Lilith at all. They— _we_ don't want to set a precedent for demons to kidnap Shadowhunters whenever they want our attention."

Alec, Izzy, Clary, and the Shadowhunters loyal to their set all break into an outcry at once. Even Maryse objects, though she subsides at Lydia's words, which Magnus cannot hear over the clamour. Lydia doesn't look triumphant, or even harsh. She looks sad to be the bearer of the Clave's indifference, but strong and determined to do her job regardless. With that expression on her face, Magnus is able to place her more easily—she must be the grandchild, perhaps great-grandchild, of Henry Branwell. Another time.

"I need to speak with you," Magnus says, drawing close to Alec's ear. Alec almost shakes him off in anger, but catches himself. He frowns at Magnus, questioning, and Magnus adds, "to you, Isabelle, and darling Biscuit." He says the last firmly, snagging Clary's arm amid her wild gesticulations as she yells the word 'unacceptable' through tears. He quite agrees, but he might have a solution to fix it.

They pile out into the hall, slipping out easily under the cover of all the hullabaloo. Three blazing pairs of eyes, raw with emotion, look to him for help. 

"The Malachi configuration," Magnus says without preamble.

Alec and Izzy look startled, while Clary looks confused.

"You're not supposed to know about that," Izzy says cautiously.

"I am a _very_ attentive lover," he tells her, "and some Shadowhunters do so love to ramble on during the serene interludes once passion cools." 

Alec makes a strangled noise, but they've already firmly established that it's not shame or jealousy, so Magnus presses forward. "I know how to create it, and I know Lilith can be held by it. We get the seraph blades we need from the armory, we trap Lilith, we free Jace, and we do it all before the Clave hears of anything. They can't very well order us to throw Jace back into her clutches if they only find out after we've already done it."

The Lightwood siblings gape at him openly. Biscuit, made of sterner stuff and very determined to get her beau back, has already moved on to the next problem at hand. "How do we make sure the Clave doesn't find out and stop us? Lydia will notice we're all gone sooner or later." 

"We'll get mom to distract her," Izzy suggests.

"She won't go for it," Alec says.

"Yes she will! She cares about Jace!"

"She cares about the law."

"You can't seriously believe that she—"

"You've _seen_ how she treated me when—"  
Before they could work themselves into a tizzy over the ways their mother may or may not disappoint them, Magnus interrupts to say, "I believe Lydia Branwell will allow herself to be distracted, with or without Maryse's help."

"Why are you so sure of that?"

"I knew her ancestors. I know the values she was raised with." He doesn't elaborate further, but he doesn't need to. As soon as Magnus goes back into the war room to draw Lydia aside for a word, she casts them all a knowing look.

"You're right, a lengthy discussion about how this incident might affect New York operations really would be most appropriate right now, behind closed doors in Maryse's office," she replies to Magnus's barely subtle suggestion without missing a beat. 

Maryse goes with her, and Magnus doesn't know if it's because he's been biased by Alec that he finds it disturbingly hard to tell if Maryse is going along out of deference to the Clave's authority, or if she is aware she's helping them. It doesn't matter, anyway, and Alec doesn't seem to waste any time trying to figure it out himself.

For the sake of expediency, Isabelle and Clary have split off to 'borrow' the needed blades while Magnus handled Lydia, and they reconvene to set off together for the meeting place Lilith demanded. 

They arrive stealthily from the north, getting a view of Lilith long before she can spot them. She paces and taps her long black nails against her crossed arms; she clearly has Jace bound with magic somehow, since he stands docilely by her without a struggle, not saying a word. It must be a mighty power she wields indeed, if Jace can't mouth off.

Magnus has drawn them a schematic of how the configuration should be set up, and now he directs them on the most strategic position place it so that they can best neutralize Lilith. Not one of them pauses to reflect on how odd it is that three of the most elite Shadowhunters in New York are taking directions from a courtesan without a second thought.

Alec needs to act as bait to lure her into the right spot for trapping. Magnus doesn't like it, but Alec doesn't like that he's not staying behind now that they've gleaned all the knowledge they need from him, so he supposes they're even.

"It's too dangerous for you. Izzy and Clary are fast, they can handle putting down two blades each," Alec argues.

"It'll be even faster if only one of them needs to do so, and time is of the essence for your parabatai."

Alec's teeth grind together. They really had no more seconds to waste. His hand comes up to cup the back of Magnus's neck. "Stay safe," he orders.

"Only if you do," Magnus replies. 

Alec spares one of those seconds they don't have to give him a lopsided smile, and then the rest passes in a blur. 

With adrenaline crashing through his body and his heartbeat a loud rush in his ears, Magnus manages to get his blade secured in place without being detected. He tries not to look at what Alec is doing at all, knowing it will just be a distraction and even if things did go south, there is nothing he can do for him against Lilith anyway. His hands itch for his magic so badly that it feels like a palpable tingling numbness. Before he knows it, Izzy and Clary have completed their parts and they actually have Lilith _trapped_ , snarling and spitting mere inches from Alec's nose.

The magical walls of the Malachi configuration cut off whatever holds Jace to Lilith, and he stumbles as his own will comes back into his body. Alec catches him. Jace has to clear his throat a few times before he manages to say, "We need to fucking run."

"What?"

Jace shakes Alec off and snags Clary by the arm, dragging her along with the franticness of a man who knows something bad is about to happen and the bodily coordination of a newborn foal. 

Alec follows, as do Izzy and Magnus, while Jace tries to explain that Lilith has set up a trap that they just triggered. "She knew you would incapacitate her. She's surrounded the place with…spells, demon runes, something, I don't know, I probably missed the class on that in school to be honest. She made it so her magic was holding it back; cutting it off basically releases it."

They run while Lilith laughs triumphantly in her cage of angelic light, but Magnus can tell they won't be fast enough. There's no outrunning the hellfire that's about to explode all around them. 

He stops and turns to face her. Alec screams at him, and so do the others. He feels hands scrabbling at his arms and shoulders but he dodges them. He would tell them to keep running, but he knows that even with enhanced angel speed, they aren't going to get away in time. He also knows, somewhere deep in his chest, that not one of them would be willing to leave him to save themselves. 

That's why he has to try.

He's tried so many times before to reach his magic, he's tried harder than anyone could ever know, he's broken his own heart calling for it to come back to him, the thing that's closer to his soul than any living thing could ever be, and he's always failed. 

With people who love him behind him and Lilith in front of him, he tries even harder than all of the previous times combined. He feels a sensation not unlike ripping inside of him, and he knows this could very well kill him but if they're all going to die together anyway he might as well go down trying. 

There's been pins and needles in his hands since they got here, increasing in severity until it's like they've fallen asleep for a year and are now waking up. It gets worse now, and he feels them grow hot. 

Alec's voice calling his name is the last thing he hears before everything erupts in light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thanks so much for reading the penultimate chapter! Please let's just hand-wave how old Madzie would be if Magnus gave up his magic 30 years ago to save her okay, just don't even worry about it. Maybe she ages much more slowly because of ineffable warlock reasons. Maybe she's an adult now in this AU. Maybe we just don't need to think or address it at all, because look at all the other stuff that has happened! Talk to me about that!!!


	5. Chapter 5

Hellfire rains down on them.

Alec is in the midst of kissing good battle protocol goodbye and doubling back to snatch Magnus up so he can bodily carry him out of there when he realizes that the hellfire isn't hitting any of them. They are protected by a shield that shimmers purple and blue, pulsing like whatever a portal is made of.

He also realizes that Magnus's eyes, always the sweet colour of honey, are now glowing like molten gold. 

Jace grabs Magnus's arm on his other side and prepares to help haul him away, but Alec gives him the signal to stop. 

There's something happening here, something that has changed Lilith's expression from a triumphant sneer to wrath tinged with fear. 

All around them, the hellfire continues to burn, razing the empty park into singed remains. It falls over them but slides off the radiant dome surrounding them, like some macabre reverse snow globe. Izzy and Clary huddle close to stay under its protection, and from his peripheral vision Alec sees Clary slip her hand into Magnus's.

"You can't do this," Lilith seethes from within her cage. "You're not capable."

"Watch me," Magnus replies.

Not knowing what to expect, Alec is relieved to hear that at least Magnus's voice still sounds the same. Magnus pats Clary's hand and then lets her go, moving both of his hands in a flourish of circular motions before shooting beams of lightning from his palms at what's inside the Malachi configuration.

It disintegrates Lilith on contact, shattering her into hundreds pieces before she can even scream. The fragments glimmer out of existence, each into tiny portals of their own, and unlike Jace Alec _did_ pay attention in school. He knows that scattering greater demons into different worlds is as close as you can get to getting rid of them for good. It'll take her centuries to knit herself back together. The threat of Lilith is basically eliminated.

With her gone, the hellfire dies down. 

The energy that shields them recedes. Rather than dissipating, it gathers together into something tight and concentrated, so bright it's almost painful to look at. And then it all rushes into Magnus, quite literally in a flash, faster than any of them can react.

Magnus collapses as they all yell his name in alarm. From their positions right next to him, Alec and Jace are able to catch hold of him easily, preventing him from crumpling into a heap on the blackened ground. 

"Izzy—!"

"I'm on it," she says. She sends a fire message to the Institute for a cleanup crew to deal with what's left of the park, and a desperate plea for them to hire a warlock on their payroll to open a portal for them at a rendezvous point several blocks away. Alec knows his sister, knows that she's kept the message vague enough for them to assume it's a Shadowhunter who's hurt and needs help urgently. 

He carries Magnus like a bride, cradled against his chest, and doesn't let himself think. They're still in the field, and if he allows his thoughts to get too deep into the weeds then he will be paralyzed imagining a world where Magnus doesn't wake up. He can't be paralyzed. 

They sprint to the spot where a portal's supposed to be waiting for them, and he's half dreading that it won't be, that the Clave has decided that of all their combined transgressions this is the last straw. But it's an unfounded fear that's put to rest as they round a corner and see the swirling circle that beckons them. 

They step through it into the Institute, where less than two hours ago they had walked away from an uproar of arguing over whether they should follow orders and leave Jace to die. 

"Jace!" Maryse's voice cuts through the crowd, and her eyes have a wet sheen as she approaches them, hand reaching out for her adopted son's shoulder.

Something passes between them that Alec is vaguely aware he will never understand, as the eldest born to her, and he hates to interrupt their moment, but—

"Please, Mom, I need to get him to the infirmary," Alec pleads, clutching a still-unconscious Magnus.

"I don't think we're allowed to treat courtesans in the Institute infirmary," someone protests, but before Alec can make a mental note to murder them, Maryse waves them aside and clears the way for Alec and his gang of renegades.

"We can make an exception for someone who just saved several Shadowhunter lives and thwarted whatever else Lilith had planned," Maryse says firmly. Izzy's message must have included a bit more detail than he'd thought. 

Healers are summoned, and in all the commotion Alec has to be talked into putting Magnus down so that he can be examined. Jace gently pries his hands loose from Magnus, the only person in the world whom Alec would ever allow to do such a thing, and Izzy loops her arm through his, linking their elbows and not letting go.

He watches as they crowd around the bed, heart a cold stone in his throat when he realizes they can't draw _iratze_ s on Magnus. They hook him up with IV fluids and put a heart monitor on him, and as far as Alec can tell they don't do much else. But they must be more skilled than Alec can understand, because after a while they leave his bedside again and don't look as grim on their way out as they did going in.

"Do we need to call a warlock? His friend, Catarina, she's a nurse and she has powerful healing magic, she can—"

"There's no need, Mr. Lightwood, although you can if it'll make you feel better," the head healer says, not sarcastically. "All of his test results confirm that he's just gone through a bout of extreme magical over-exertion, followed immediately by depletion. He just needs time to rest, his body will repair itself."

Relief rushes through Alec as potently as a drug. His siblings release him and he gravitates to the chair next to Magnus's bed, collapsing bonelessly into it and allowing himself to stop being on high alert for the first time since they heard Jace was taken that morning. 

He doesn't get up from that chair again.

At some point he rouses enough to give Cat a call from Magnus's phone, checking in just in case. She confirms what the healers said but tells Alec he can call her if he is at all uncertain about any changes in Magnus's condition. His attention is still so fully on Magnus that he doesn't have the energy to get nervous about what impression he makes on Magnus's dearest, oldest friend, which he's sure he would have if he had met her for the first time under any other circumstance.

Clary flits in to bring him a coffee and a sandwich some undecipherable amount of time later. He eats mechanically, more out of a single-minded determination to keep himself fuelled so he can be there for Magnus's waking up than any hunger he can feel. 

Maryse drops by, too, late in the night. He automatically assumes it's for the fool's errand of telling him to go get some sleep, but Jace must have warned her off of that. Instead, she starts and stops and finally utters something that almost but not quite tiptoes at the edge of an apology. "I see now that he is not a bad man," she says, stilted and formal. 

Alec snorts, eyes not leaving Magnus's face. It looks relaxed now, like he's truly sleeping, rather than tight and drawn like it had been when he was first brought in. He loves that face.

"Would you say you were wrong about him?"

"Yes," she says, with a lack of hesitation that surprises him. He had kind of thought he was challenging her. "I've known I was for a while now, even before this…incident, if I'm being honest. I just didn't want to admit it."

At that, he does finally look at her. Her chin juts out, proud and haughty, in a way that he recognizes as her trying to cover up how uncomfortable she is. She forces herself to keep going. "When he feels up to it, I would like to get to know him better. And you, too," she says, reaching out to touch his cheek just briefly before dropping her hand.

Alec is very aware that she hasn't said the word 'sorry,' but she's never been good at doing that with words. "I'll tell him you said that. Maybe we can get dinner or something," he says.

She smiles at him, closed-lipped and wobbly. He returns it. 

It's a start.

* * *

Magnus wakes up with a jolt, sitting bolt upright and gasping so hard it sounds like a wheeze.

"Hey, easy, easy," someone murmurs soothingly, and he places the voice as Alec's after a moment.

He seizes the fingers trying to stroke the sweaty hair back from his forehead and wrings them in his distress. "Alexander, the girl!" he all but wails, "Madzie! I traded my magic to save her, and now I took my magic back. I killed her, I traded her life back to save ours—"

"No you didn't, it's okay, you didn't," Alec repeats, one knee awkwardly on the bed as he half stands, half climbs in so he can wrap both arms around Magnus, rocking him slightly. "I called Catarina, I checked. They're both okay."

"You what?""I knew it would be the first thing you'd worry about, so I called to make sure. She's absolutely fine, no side effects that they've noticed, but they'll keep an eye out just in case. Catarina's pretty sure nothing will happen though, she thinks it was a one-time deal, and…you're staring at me. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." Magnus _is_ staring at him, in wonder. "I'm just drinking in how thoughtful you are." How well he knows Magnus, even more than he had thought, which was already a lot.

"How thoughtful _I_ am? Who's the one who dropped everything to risk his life to save Jace when he didn't even know if any of it would work? It wasn't even your fight."

"Well, your parabatai is important to you."

"He's important to you too! If the two of you would ever drop the act and admit it," Alec grouses. He's still only half on the bed, but he's shuffled around in a way that lets him face Magnus now, so the two of them can gaze soppily into each other's faces and smile. Magnus knows if anybody were to peer in right now, they'd look positively disgusting.

Alec, with his hand tilting Magnus's face up, brushes a thumb along the delicate skin under Magnus's eye. "They're brown," he says.

Magnus has no idea what he's talking about for a second. "Oh! Right, I forgot. I've always glamoured my eyes so I could walk around looking more normal. I've done it for so long, it must have been second nature as soon as I got my magic back." He blinks. "I know you like my eyes the way you're used to seeing them. Do you want me to drop it?""I want you to do whatever makes you comfortable. You're beautiful either way." He leans in to press a soft kiss where his thumb had caressed. "It's like how you look beautiful no matter what colour shirt you're wearing, I'd never ask you to change it on account of me."

They grin soppily at each other some more, and Magnus closes the distance between their mouths but before they can get any proper heat going, Alec pulls away with a question. 

"Wait, does keeping the glamour on expend any magic energy? Because I was told to make sure you rest."

"Not to worry, darling, I feel great. I feel stronger than I have in decades." To emphasize his point, he swirls his fingers and sends a visible tendril of magic up Alec's thigh to his groin, where it vibrates warm and pleasant at the base of his cock.

"Magnus!" Alec gasps. He squeezes Magnus's arm in admonishment, which has the opposite effect of making Magnus giggle instead. 

"Hush, you have to let me show it off. I've had to go without it for so long…"

"I'm very impressed, but you really do need to rest, you ass."

Magnus kisses him quiet.

Alec ends up crawling fully onto the bed, straddling Magnus's thighs as he licks into Magnus's mouth. Alec's weight feels good on him, heavy and vital, an accompaniment to the surging life flowing through his veins. Not that his life had been completely bereft without magic, but it had felt like it sometimes, and it feels incredible now to be able to do anything at all without the slightest sensation of something being missing. 

He bites Alec's bottom lip, which makes him gasp and squirm in his lap. They rut against each other through their clothes, Alec's legs gripping him on either side, groins a rough slide against each other, just on the wrong side of uncomfortable but the right side of thrilling. Alec breaks off their kiss with a groan, leaning back and pushing at Magnus's chest to keep him at arm's length long enough to get a word in.

"We have to stop," he pants, "your heart monitor's going crazy and we do actually have surveillance cameras in here. They're all doing us a favour by not coming in here, but I think their generosity has limits."

"I take it that limit is before we get jizz on the hospital sheets?"

Alec winces. "Don't…say it like that."

Magnus smiles impishly at him, and he can tell by the way Alec's eyes zero in on his mouth that they're about to forget everything and start making out again. Despite the breezy, freewheeling air he endeavours to cultivate, Magnus does actually care about not being kicked out and banned from the New York Institute. Again. 

"Let's go to your room," he suggests.

Alec hurriedly agrees, so Magnus moves to swing his legs off the bed but Alec won't let him. "You're supposed to rest still," he says, and Magnus would have relented to be helped down the hall with an arm around his waste, or perhaps even a sensible wheelchair if Alec really insisted, but no. Instead, he scoops Magnus up into his arms like a blushing bride being carried over the threshold, and when Magnus protests he speaks over him to say, "I don't want the only memory I have of holding you this way to be when I thought you were about to _die_."

How could Magnus possibly refuse him, when he puts it like that.

He quietly suffers the indignity of the bridal carry, and luckily no witnesses run into them, though Magnus suspects that may be due more to some behind-the-scenes machinations by their friends than to chance.

They burst into Alec's room, where Alec sets him down on the bed carefully. He strips, his clothes still smelling like smoke and scorched earth because to shower or change would've meant leaving Magnus's bedside, and he clearly hadn't done that. Magnus himself had been changed into a clean cotton gown, which he wastes no time pulling off and tossing carelessly aside. 

Pausing to change locations has somewhat calmed them a little. The urgent heat with which they had been canoodling in the infirmary has simmered down into more of a glowing ember than a blaze, which Magnus likes just as well. It means they can take their time to kiss more languidly, hands roaming unhurried over skin they knew so well. 

Alec's lips have the same effect they always do of making Magnus feel thoroughly claimed, and not just that, but happily so. There is absolutely nothing virginal about that mouth anymore, but Magnus can't take all the credit for everything Alec has learned. Some of it has come naturally to him, some of it he's figured out all on his own—and some of it they've learned together. 

The press of Alec's tongue against his re-ignites their hunger. Alec has climbed back on top of him, his leg brushing Magnus's arousal. It makes Magnus's fingers fist into his hair, pulling with a slight twist. Alec gasps and arches against him more firmly, rubbing his cock against Magnus's hip.

"How do you want it?" Magnus whispers into the space that barely exists between their mouths.

"Like this, just like this," Alec moans, rutting against him. 

It's the euphoria of life-affirming sex after a close call. Magnus has had it before, but it's never been quite like this. He's never been as glad to be alive with anyone as he is with Alec. He clamps his thighs together nice and tight around Alec's cock for Alec to fuck into, and it makes them both cry out when the swollen ridge of Alec's head drags heavy along Magnus's balls and up his length every time Alec's hips pull out before driving back in.

Magnus kisses his neck, nipping the soft skin of his throat before sucking it between his teeth. Alec sobs out something unintelligible and pulsates between Magnus's legs, throbbing once, twice, three times as his bucks wildly against Magnus before going slack.

It takes him a good long moment to recover, but as soon as he does, he pushes himself back up so he can slide down Magnus's body, bringing his face level with the mess he's made of Magnus's thighs. He trails his hand through it, uses it like lube to jerk Magnus off. The lewdness of it brings Magnus that much closer to coming, breath coming in short little gasps, He watches wide-eyed as Alec bends down to put Magnus into his mouth, sucking his own cum off of his cock. The combination of how filthy the action is, how uninhibited Alec has to be in this moment to do it, and how it feels to be surrounded by the plush wet warmth of Alec pitches him over the edge, and he falls into bliss.

When he opens his eyes again, he finds Alec propped up on his elbow, watching him. 

"They're gold again," he says, reaching up to tap between Magnus's eyes.

Magnus blinks and makes his eyes appear ice blue for a second, just to be funny, and Alec flicks his nose. "Stop. I know it must be exciting but you have to rest first."

Magnus pouts at him. "I want to show you all the things I can do. I've always wanted to, but I…" he trails off as a thought occurs to him that makes him frown more sincerely.

Alec sits up with a frown to match his. He looks at him in silent questioning, taking his hand between both of his. 

"It's nothing," Magnus says, waving his other hand in an approximation of a carefree dismissal. "Just an irrelevant thought that came to mind. It finally sank in that I won't be a courtesan anymore, but you've always known me as one."

"No," Alec says. His voice is very deep and rough; it always gets gravelly after they've had a tumble in bed. "I've always known you as Magnus Bane, an incredible person regardless of your profession because you're so much more than your profession. And I am so, so happy—" he pauses to bring Magnus's hand up to his face so he can plant a kiss on his knuckles— "that you got this part of yourself back that you love."

Magnus's heart feels so full it could burst. There's still a part of him that doesn't trust that this feeling doesn't foretell certain doom, but looking at Alec makes him feel like maybe he could handle a little doom. After all, he just got through a magical impossibility out of love for him. 

"How can I be anything but happy for you," Alec continues, "knowing that you can do anything you want now."

Magnus brightens at that, because it's true. "I can get very rich, very quickly. It's easy for warlocks, I've done it before. I guess technically I already am, but I've been carefully not spending my savings with nothing to safeguard my earning ability in the long life stretched out before me. But now I can. On you." He gets excited as he warms to the topic, flipping them over so he can straddle Alec's lap. "I am going to buy you so many things, and portal you to so many—oh my goodness Alexander, you've never been to Bali! Or Kyoto, or Florence. There are so many fabulously romantic places I want you to kiss me—"

Alec kisses him now, right here, on his terrible mattress in the New York Institute, perhaps the least and also most romantic place in the world. "You don't have to buy me things," he says, beaming at Magnus. "I have everything I want."

"Well, you see, someone told me once that members of your family like to pay for things for their, as you put it, 'mates'."

"Yeah?"

"It will be great fun for me to live up to the family tradition, then."

They spend a few more long useless seconds beaming at each other, naked with Magnus astride Alec, not even doing anything but soaking in the reality that things have worked out surprisingly okay. The peace is broken when the other members of their clan must have decided that they've had enough alone time now, as Izzy begins knocking heavy-fisted on Alec's door.

"Don't be selfish, Alec, we want to see Magnus too," Clary calls. Jace makes some undecipherable but definitely concurring noise in the background.

Magnus waves his fingers, causing a few twinkles of light to glisten at the door knob. Alec frowns sternly at him and spanks him lightly on the side of his haunch, which Magnus finds very interesting and files away for later.

"I've locked your door with a little extra layer of security to prolong our privacy. But it was only a very little bit of magic because I didn't want to upset you," he says, blinking innocent doe eyes at Alec that he knows aren't at all convincing. "They're going to be able to break in in about fifteen more minutes, so you should make the most of it."

Alec does, by wrapping his arms around Magnus and kissing him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaaand here we are at the end. Thank you so much for going on this adventure with me, I hope you had half as much fun as I did. Everyone who's read, left a kudos, commented, or even just thought about the fic in passing has helped motivate me to finish. If you've been waiting until this was complete to read it or give feedback, I would very much appreciate knowing what you think! I'm going to miss connecting with all of you weekly about this story; if you'd like to come yell at me on tumblr, you can find me at [@riseagainphoenix](http://riseagainphoenix.tumblr.com). I'm not super active on there but I reply to things and don't mind the DM function.
> 
> Special thanks once again to the crumbling manse in the haunted garden of my soul, [Adi_Rotynd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adi_rotynd/pseuds/adi_rotynd), who helped with a bunch of research and plotting and cheerleading. This fic technically started as a text to you.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for joining me on this new AU adventure! I'm so excited for you to see what's in store. Please tell me what you think of it so far :). I have completed the fic already but still have lots of editing to do, so I plan to update about once a week until the end, which will be chapter five. I've created a pretty [moodboard/fanart thing to promote this fic on my tumblr](https://riseagainphoenix.tumblr.com/post/624091029175500800/make-the-right-mistake-nc-17-on-ao3-tradition), take a look and give it a reblog if you fancy. I promise I will see you all very soon!


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